The Many Nuanced Meanings of Indefinitely
by dcat8888
Summary: This is crime story set in the 1st season era of Hardcastle and McCormick...Sarah's along for the ride too!


The Many Nuanced Meanings of Indefinitely

by dcat

OOOOO

This story takes place very early on in the relationship between Milt, Mark and Sarah. _Malibioenergy_ is fictitious.

I do not own the characters of Hardcastle and McCormick.

OOOOO

_Indefinite – not definite, unclear, vague, lacking precise limits, uncertain, undecided. Typically designating an unidentified or not immediately identifiable person or thing, having no exact limits._

OOOOO

It was colder this morning than it had been in a long time. Hardcastle, up at his usual early morning hour, decided he needed to pull out a sweat jacket out of his closet, just after he laced up his original worn to a frazzle pair of Chuck Taylor's. He had left the window nearly wide open overnight in his bedroom and was surprised by how cold it had gotten. He happily plodded down the stairs and reached down to scoop up the well-used leather basketball on his way out into the early morning air. The dawn was just coming up and even the paved walkway was covered in the early morning dampy-dew. As he moved away from the house and toward the basketball court, he bounced the ball a couple of times on the walkway and took a deep breath as he set foot on the open area. He dribbled three more times and underhandedly lobbed the ball into the nearby basket. It easily went in and as it fell through the net, which was laden with more of the dew droplets and they sprayed onto him as he waited for his own rebound.

Meanwhile, in the loft room of the gatehouse above the court, McCormick had been in a deep sleep. Atop him were layers of sheet, blanket, quilt, various clothes and maybe even a partially eaten sandwich. It was the third dribble that served as his new alarm clock, which clearly beat the air horn blast he had endured through two years at San Quentin. Nearly six months of this anti-routine, routine already and his eyes mysteriously shot open as he heard the now unmistaken sound from outside. Would he ever get used to it? He rolled over on his back. Another new day was about to begin. He took an extra five seconds to blink and rub the morning crust from his eyes, before moving anything else. He pushed off the layers and felt the cold chill of the weather front that must have passed through overnight, immediately realizing that he would be going for sweat pants and a sweat shirt this morning. He found a pair of navy blue pants on the nearby floor and slid them on as his feet searched the ground for his beloved Nikes. A quick hand passed through his hair, managing to break a couple of tangles. He stood up and squished his feet into the shoes correctly and took a quick breath through his nose. The white t-shirt he wore was slightly twisted around his torso and left side from how he had been sleeping. He adjusted it for comfort as he plodded down the stairs and grabbed a sweatshirt from the bottom stair as he made his way outside.

"Hey, you got up without a light this morning," Hardcastle's voice beckoned him from the slightly foggy court. He was getting used to seeing the kid's bedroom lamp go on when he came a-dribbling.

McCormick merely gave him a head nod and he pulled the sweatshirt down in an effort to keep warm for an extra second or two.

"That's good kiddo, that'll save on my electric bill. See that, you don't need an alarm clock or a light anymore, now that you've got me?"

How could this guy be so full of mindless yammer at 6:30 in the morning, every morning, McCormick wondered as he took his left hand and swiped his face with it one more time, willing himself to wake up fully. McCormick still hadn't quite figured out the older man that stood before him, and maybe he never would fully, he'd sort of given up trying and resolved himself just to go with the flow, albeit, Hardcastle's flow, not his own. He didn't really have an idea how long this indefinitely was going to last, but he found himself getting used to it and at times even enjoying it. That was truly odd to him, enjoying chasing after madmen with a guy who thought he was the Lone Ranger. He stepped over some hedge onto the court and bent over, hands on his knees, apparently waiting for the game with the old man to begin.

Hardcastle watched it all and was more than amused by his new charge and his lack of verbal-ness. He couldn't help but wonder what was going on underneath all the curly hair, probably too much thinking for his own good, Milt thought. "Don't you want to warm up first?" he questioned him. "You know it's not so good to just start playing right off, you could pull or tear something." Hardcastle held onto the ball and waited for some sort of response. The kid had a sharp wit and his mouth usually shot out whatever his mind came up with. Milt braced himself for the verbal assault.

McCormick eyed him up as he straightened, swallowed and sort of cleared his throat at the same time, swiped the ball out of Hardcastle's hand and fired up a 15-footer without even looking at the hoop. It cleanly went in. He took one step to retrieve the rebound and set the ball back in the same spot it was in Hardcastle's hand. "I'm warm, let's go."

Hardcastle had to chuckle at that. He knew the kid had maybe been up for a total of three minutes. What he'd do if he could only bottle up that kind of energy for when he was 85. The Judge was impressed with how cool and collected the kid stayed, unless of course he felt the need to rant and rave directly to the Judge. "All right then, game's to 21, a little make-it, take it this morning, just to change it up," he said. "Check?" he tossed the ball at McCormick, who tapped it back to Milt.

"Is this for $10 or $20?" was Mark's reply, his lower voice still laden with sleep.

"Either one, it doesn't matter to me," the Judge tossed back.

McCormick's brain quickly worked. A $20 would be good right about now. He'd won yesterday morning's game, but that was only for $10. Two days earlier he'd won $20 on the pulse bet, but the day before that, he'd lost $20 in the game and another $10 on a pulse bet. There had to be a better way to keep ahead of this donkey and now was as good a time as any. "Let's go for $20," he finally said.

"Fine, it'll be like taking candy from a baby," the Judge replied, with a sly look on his weathered face. "You're still half asleep."

"We'll see," McCormick finally let out a lazy yawn.

The Judge sluggishly dribbled, taking it slow and easy at first and eased into his game, driving to the right for an easy two point lay up. McCormick barely moved to guard him. He moved to the free throw line for his 'take-it' shot and sunk that too, putting him up 3-0. Then he went back to taking the ball out. "You gonna play this morning or just let me beat you straight off McCormick? You know you gotta do some work to earn that $20 bucks, I'm not gonna just hand it over to you." That remark just got him an icy glare that matched the outside air temperature. This time the Judge weaved past him and launched a 10-footer, followed by another free throw. "That's 6-zero kiddo." Hardcastle worked up the score to 10-0 before McCormick's physical energy really decided to kick in. Milt moved back, to take the ball out once again and began to ready himself for the next shot he would put up, when the kid stepped forward and cleanly stole the ball away from him.

He dribbled in the backcourt and took two steps to his left, before stepping back to launch up a long range jumper. McCormick's jumpers didn't have much of an arch to them, they were more like mid-range missiles the way they came off his hands and shot toward the basket. The result was the same as Larry Bird's though, nothing but net. "That should be three, but since you're still living in 1912, I'll take two," McCormick said, his smart aleck disdain for all that was old school, including the Judge, was evident. He hustled over and grabbed the ball from the flower bed and went to make his free throw making it 10-3.

After that, there was no more idle chatter between them, but rather a quick update to the score whenever one of them managed to tack on some points. The Judge was beginning to realize that the 'early morning' McCormick was quite a bit less jovial, and the wisecracks had more of a pointed bite to them. He definitely wasn't the morning person like the Judge was. It didn't matter though, he liked the intensity that the kid had as he played. McCormick played with the same type of determined intensity that he had displayed in taking down Martin Cody. That was a very good thing in the Judge's eyes. And having a little competition clearly beat shooting endless shots alone. He'd never admit that out loud though to McCormick.

"That's 21-17 Judge," McCormick said, holding out his hand, anxiously awaiting his $20. The Judge was quick to pay as he dug into his pocket and pulled out the cash.

"Sarah's got breakfast ready by now, let's go eat," The Judge said, looking at the sweat dripping off of McCormick's brow. He'd already removed the hooded sweatshirt he wore about mid-way through the game. McCormick went to pick it up off the nearby grass and began to head to the main house. Milt reached out his hand and grabbed McCormick's arm and held him up. "You want to try for another $10? Seems like you're pretty winded right now?" Hardcastle tugged at the sleeve of his own jacket to reveal his watch.

Mark eyed him up cautiously, "Why stop at $10 Hardcase, let's say another $20?" He pulled up his left arm and eyed up his watch.

That brought delight to Hardcastle's face. Milt could win back his money quickly. They both synchronized their timing and were ready to give up their numbers. Hardcastle, not surprisingly, went first. Since he'd paroled McCormick into his custody, he usually did, figuring he'd give the kid the chance to cheat if he felt so inclined. Sort of a test and a morale booster all at the same time. He was more than pleasantly surprised though when Mark unexpectedly had jumped in a couple of times before the Judge could blurt out his answer. The kid was playing for real. Hardcastle was beginning to let his guard down little by little when it came to McCormick, something he really hadn't done with his earlier 'test projects.' He was more than happy to know he could trust the kid in these little sort of 'honesty' tests, since bigger ones were on the horizon. There were a lot more criminal types that Hardcastle wanted to round up and lock up and it was added reassurance to know that McCormick could be trusted.

"126" Hardcastle said.

"120" McCormick answered, displaying an ear to ear grin, all the while thinking he finally was actually $10 up on old Hardcase.

"I'll give you the other $20 in the house, I don't have it on me right now," Milt said.

Now the fun-loving smart aleck was starting to show. "No problem your honor, I can just bill you for it, give you a marker, or start an IOU for it. You know what, it doesn't matter anyway, I do know where you live, you know?" he tossed in one more crack as they made their way to the house.

When they entered the kitchen Sarah was busy putting the finishing touches on a fairly full table of breakfast food. She already knew exactly what the Judge liked to eat and had taken several weeks to adapt her cooking to Mark's rather astonishing appetite. She still was trying to clarify what foods he did and didn't care for, even though he kept insisting that he'd eat anything and most of the time that seemed to be the case.

"This food was ready nearly fifteen minutes ago your Honor," she chided him as he poured himself a cup of coffee by the coffee maker.

"I was getting a lesson in three-pointers Sarah," he answered, knowing she'd have no clue as to what he was talking about.

"Well, when you're eating cold food again maybe you'll realize that you should put a time limit on your morning antics," Sarah said.

"They're not antics, it's basketball," he felt the need to remind her. She held up her hand as she breezed by the table, admitting that it was no concern of hers. Antics and or basketball were the same thing in her book.

"I apologize Sarah, you can blame me," Mark began thinking that one of them had to beg forgiveness since the housekeeper took her task of keeping house seriously, "I didn't realize the Judge had such a rigorous time table. It won't happen again. I promise you I can beat him in a shorter amount of time." He let out a 'ha' after he spoke, eyes twinkling with pride at the thought of beating old Hardcase.

Milt had gone into a drawer and grabbed a $20 bill to give to Mark and he casually handed it to him out of eye sight of Sarah, who didn't endorse the gambling sort of lifestyle. Hardcastle lifted up his finger to his lips to remind and or beg McCormick to keep it quiet.

Mark wiped the grin off his lips and tried to maintain the serious decorum, at least for a few moments and kept the secret and then went to take a seat at the table. "Smells great Sarah, as always," he dipped his head and his voice to let her know how much he enjoyed all the food she prepared.

"Thank you Mark," was her direct response.

Hardcastle now gave him a glare to let him know that he was going off the deep end now with the over-exuberance of compliments. The kid could brown-nose with the best of them.

Little did either one of them realize, that Sarah knew just about everything they were up to. The gambling, the gorilla ball and the sweet-talking at the table. She soaked up all of it, happy most of all because the Judge seemed genuinely happy with his new pet project. She silently wished that Mark McCormick would be the one and everything would work out for all of them. They must have both thought she was born in the Middle Ages not to know what was going on and all the trouble they were getting into. Her concern was growing for both of them and their well being and it was something she took seriously.

"I made you each an omelet this morning, plus the usual, coffee, juice, pancakes, sausage, bacon, toast and I stopped at the bakery and picked up some sweet rolls too," Sarah explained.

McCormick was flabbergasted by the litany of food. He honestly could say that he'd never eaten like he was now in his whole life. That was one thing he hadn't gotten used to yet, it almost seemed like it was too excess, not that he was complaining, but Sarah seemed to have the kitchen under control and nothing went to waste. She'd use the leftovers in some soup or stew or casserole or something and everything tasted great. It was like having a loving grandmother taking care of his ever need. And it was definitely something new to him. He hadn't been 'spoiled' when it came to food since his own mother had died. He'd forgotten what that was even like, but the memories came flooding back at every glorious meal in the Hardcastle house. He certainly could let himself get used to this easily enough. He was about to dig in when out of the corner of his eye he saw her grab a step stool and start to climb up it. He quickly got up and took hold of her hand and indicated that she should step down. "What do you need Sarah, I can get it for you," he offered.

She took his hand and came down and told him, "That large container up there on the top shelf. The blue one," she added.

Hardcastle watched somewhat suspiciously from the table. What he was thinking was more on the lines of 'I'll be damned, the kid's got a sense of chivalry in him.' Then he thought about it a little further and wondered if the kid was just continuing on with his brownnosing. Either way, Sarah seemed to be pleased with his action and that was a good thing. A kind act was still a kind act, no matter what the initial motive was.

He reached up and plucked it down for her and went back to his breakfast.

"Thank you again, Mark," she paused and added, "Now you better eat."

"Who taught you how to shoot that long range missile jump shot of yours?" Hardcastle went back to one of his favorite topics.

Mark had taken a huge bite out of his omelet but managed to reply, "I just picked it up at the playground lot growing up. I guess I always thought I shot like everyone else."

"There's no arc in your shot at all, it's got some radar or a string that just propels it toward the hoop. It's kind of crazy looking." 

"Hey, we all gotta have a talent right?" McCormick replied, continuing to eat.

Hardcastle nodded and took one last swig at his coffee. "I'm going to shower and then I've got some files for you to look over for our next case, so once you get done eating and get cleaned up, get back over here will ya?"

"Sure," he said, shoveling in his food at a little bit faster tempo to keep up to the Judge's pace.

"He doesn't mean you have to gulp down your food," Sarah was quick to remind him. "Just because he eats his food too fast and gets heartburn, doesn't mean you have to."

Hardcastle wanted to reply to her, but as usual he refrained. He looked back to a bemused McCormick and said, "Listen to her, she knows what she's talking about when it comes to food. I'll see you in a little while."

McCormick continued to enjoy his food when Sarah struck up a conversation of sorts with him. He was slightly surprised when she began to talk to him.

"A beautiful morning like this and I was really hoping you could do a few things around here for me today," she had started on doing some dishes. "I guess it can wait till tomorrow or maybe even a week from tomorrow by the time you two get through with your gallivanting."

"It's more than gallivanting Sarah, we're busting bad guys, putting criminals behind bars, we're like the modern day Lone Ranger and Tonto," he flexed his jawbone, enjoying the ribbing he was getting in on the now absent Hardcase. "You know how the Judge is, justice must prevail."

"It's doggone foolishness I think. The Judge is supposed to be retired and look at him, running around like he's some fool-hardy teenager. He's supposed to be using his positive influence on you to help reform you, not to encourage the sort of behavior you've already mastered."

"Oh he is Sarah, trust me, he is," Mark kept a most serious look pasted on his face. He was a little unsure where all this was going.

"Hmmpph," was her comeback. They both knew they weren't fooling the other.

Mark watched her flit about the kitchen for a moment and then decided to add, "I'd be glad to do whatever you'd like for me to do Sarah, you name it and I'll take care of it."

"Nonsense, Judge Hardcastle has something planned for you today, so my plans will just have to wait."

"Aw, come on, I can do both, really, anyway, that's what I'm here for right? You told me right off that you're the one who runs things around here. You may as well help me out in the reform department too," he added seeing as how she seemed to like to think that this was some sort of school for troubled youth.

He almost saw the beginnings of a smile form on her lips, but it quickly dissipated. "I'll make you a list and we'll just see how far you get," she answered. "I'll leave it for you on the refrigerator door." That was the end of her conversation and he resumed eating his breakfast.

Sarah watched him out of the corner of her eye as she did her dishes. He was different from the other cons that the Judge had tried this with. Not that they all hadn't had their moments of brown-nosing, especially when it came to helping her out in the direct presence of the Judge, but still, here it had been six months already and aside from a couple of times when she could see some anger building up inside him, this one, this Mark McCormick kept things in check and had always treated her respectfully. The Judge, that was another matter entirely, he constantly teased and bickered with him, but Judge Hardcastle actually seemed to enjoy it, so Sarah kept her mouth closed and let them form whatever sort of relationship they wanted to. The Judge had the same type of rapport with his own son as much as she could recall. The thing that impressed her the most about Mark was that he always seemed to know when the Judge was in some sort of trouble and even more than that, he would do whatever he could to get Hardcastle out of the trouble he was in. After the situation was resolved, Mark would fall back into the smart aleck, teasing routine. McCormick also seemed to come to appreciate the daily routine life on the estate as much as she and the Judge did.

OOOOO

McCormick opened the door to the den about an hour later and saw that the Judge was huddled over the desk, with copious notes and files surrounding him. Hardcastle looked up immediately as he heard the door knob turning. "An hour?" was all he said.

Mark shrugged glancing at his own watch and knowing he'd been gone for an extra long amount of time, "I took care of a few things for Sarah."

The Judge didn't say anything else, obviously accepting his excuse. Milt knew that Sarah would be quick to develop her own list of routine maintenance around the estate that she'd expect Mark to take care of and she was beginning to plan his schedule. He'd have to remember to remind her that his and McCormick's work would come first. The woman could be somewhat of a tyrant when it came to the estate. The place did look spic and span under her watch though.

McCormick walked down the few steps and waited for what ever was to come next.

"I thought I'd try something new here, I'm giving you your choice this time," the Judge began. "Well, sort of, I narrowed it down to three, but I'll let you actually do the selecting. Think of it as a double bonus from this morning," Hardcastle said, smiling brightly. He watched the kid for a reaction and could have sworn he saw a tiny glint in his eye or the remote beginnings of his lips curling upward to smile, but it all happened so fast he couldn't be sure. McCormick didn't entirely disappoint as he tossed out a smart aleck response.

"Well, if that's the case, I'd rather have another $20 and we can skip all the cases completely," McCormick fired back. "I got a lawn to cut anyway." Was this guy nuts? Giving him a choice in who they chased after and calling it a bonus? McCormick immediately thought he'd just figure out which one of these criminals would be the easiest and quickest to upend. The choice would be simple. But he carefully examined the Judge as he spoke and felt a tiny ripple of confidence swell inside him. He was a part of this now and the Judge was offering him up another chance. He had to give some serious thought to what was set before him. Hardcastle would see right through him if he didn't. Granted it was a chance to get his head blown off or his car smashed up, but it was still another chance.

"Not in this lifetime," the Judge was saying "And the lawn can wait another day. Here," he held up the three files, "take these, read through 'em and let me know which one of these scum bags we're going after. I got something to take care of out in the garage. And see if you can do this in less than an hour this time huh?" Mark walked over to the desk and let him put the large, overgrown files into his hands. Hardcastle saw him look a little befuddled. "There's chairs all over the place," Hardcastle reminded him. "Find one, sit down and start reading."

Hardcastle glanced over his shoulder on the way out of the den. He loved nothing better than tossing the kid what he thought was an un-hittable curve. If anything it would shut up his over-active mouth for a short period of time, 'till the kid figured out his timing and launched it out of the park. He internally smiled and went off to the garage.

OOOOO

Mark picked up the first file and began to glance through it. The perp was a guy named Johnny Petritti and he was busy running an illegal gambling ring throughout most of Southern California. All in all it would probably be a pretty straightforward case. They'd probably infiltrate the ring and somehow set up Johnny and his henchmen. He glanced through a few more documents in the file and moved on to the next case.

The next file had detailed information involving two brothers who ran a legitimate import business, but on the side they dabbled in importing and exporting stolen and the otherwise illegal movement of gemstones. Niko and Stavaros Almendez were their names and from their pictures alone they appeared as though they could kill someone a million different ways. McCormick wasn't too thrilled with the whole international James Bond feeling that this one would have, nor was he excited about the prospect of possibly winding up spending the rest of his life in a remote Greek Island prison.

Nope, the Almendez's would be the last on his list. That brought him to the third and final file.

He set the first two files on the floor beside him and opened up the third. The first thing in the file was a picture of the man. It obviously was a mug shot photo from a previous arrest. Mark stared at the photo of the man for a rather long amount of time. Under the photo was his name Louis Seeton along with his booking number 87397. He knew Lou Seeton from San Quentin. He would need to clarify that for Milt. He didn't actually know him, but he knew of him. Their prison terms only overlapped by a couple of weeks, McCormick being on the way in, and Seeton on the way out. Mark had only heard rumors of what Lou Seeton was involved with. He was fairly legendary inside the stone walls of Quentin and supposedly even more notorious on the outside. He had more alias's than most people had brain cells. There were over 5 pages of names listed for him in the file. He went back to the photo. The guy was a criminal personified. He was shrewd, handsome, manipulative, eerily intelligent, and most of all habitually criminal. Seeton did things the illegal way just because it was only slightly more challenging to him than doing things legally. He remembered his cellie, Teddy Hollins saying that Lou Seeton would only do something if it was illegal, since there was nothing to gain for him doing things according to the law. Teddy wasn't known to dislike anyone, but he had a real disdain for Lou Seeton. Not only was Seeton tied to virtually every sleazy crime known to man, he was running free and continuing to wreak havoc on Southern California but the cops apparently didn't have the manpower to launch a full-scale investigation into his latest activities.

Milton C. Hardcastle did though. Back when McCormick began his stay in Quentin, Seeton was doing 18 months for petty robbery and assault. Rumor had it that he had also murdered and raped a young woman the same night as he robbed the store, but no one ever found the body and the woman was still listed as missing as far as Mark knew. There wasn't anything in the file about that, but McCormick paused and tried to recall what he could remember about it, that it had something to do with Teddy, and it hit him all at once.

Most people figured that Lou would have 'people' do his dirty work for him and most of the time he did, like bringing him a couple of bottles of whiskey and some smokes, but that fateful night, he figured he could get away with robbing a convenience store, since he was out and about anyway. On this particular night he was wrong. The store owner had installed a camera and managed to call police just before Seeton clobbered him with a jumbo can of Dinty Moore Beef Stew. He was caught fleeing and served his 18 months. It was the only time Seeton had ever got caught even though Milt's file contained pages and pages of possible criminal activity.

Even in Quentin, Seeton continued to break every 'law' or code he could get away with. No one was surprised that he did, none of the cons anyway, he was a criminal legend. He served his time, never spent any time in the hole and managed to live like a virtual prince behind the cell doors. Guys could only wonder what he'd do when he got back on the outside or how they could be a part of the dough he raked in.

Since his release, Seeton had started up a company named LS Incorporated. No one was really sure what the company was all about, at least there was no real information about it in the Judge's file. Judge Hardcastle obviously wanted to find out. Mark closed the file and lifted up the other two off the floor. He put Lou Seeton's on top. He set them all back on the Judge's desk.

OOOOO

Out in the garage, Hardcastle tinkered around under the hood of the Corvette. His immediate presence focused on the car, his head somewhere else. He tried to put himself in the kid's head, and how he'd think through the possibilities set before him. Each case file came with a myriad of potential reasons he'd choose one over the other two. And it was no use for Milt to try to deduce what he thought McCormick would choose. No, he'd just wait and come to his own conclusions once the kid voiced his preference. Now it was time to just concentrate on finding out where the yakety yak noise was coming from in his prized car.

McCormick walked through the house and headed outside via the kitchen, where Sarah was busily baking some sort of dessert for this coming evening's dinner. It smelled wonderful. "Gee, it smells great in here Sarah," he paused and added, "I put down the mulch and the insecticide over by the roses on the North side of the house like you asked. I'm not sure I'll get to any more of your list today, but I have it with me and I'll take care of the rest of the things just as soon as I can," he said stopping to politely update her.

"Seems to me you two have wasted the better part of the day around here already by playing games, I'd think you could take care of a few more of those things yet today," she explained.

He checked the clock on the wall, it was only about 11am and to her the day was over. He wanted to laugh out loud, but he showed some self-control. "Um, uh, it depends on the Judge Sarah, if he says it's okay, of course I will. I think he's out in the garage right now. Let me go check with him."

"He is," she said, "I'm surprised you haven't heard him. Clattering and clanging about out there. Trying to fix that old car when he's got a certified mechanic living in the gatehouse. He should be taking things easy."

"I'm not exactly a certified mechanic Sarah," Mark tried to clarify, "Just a former Can-Am racer," he tossed out not in an effort to boast, but rather to try to make his background a little clearer to her.

"Even still, you know your way around a car a lot more than he ever will," she said. "He shouldn't be puttering around out there."

His sudden modesty wouldn't allow him to say anything. He took what she said as a compliment, but her tone was somewhat stand-offish. He just wasn't sure. He couldn't help but wonder if Hardcastle had ever let Sarah read his file or if they had perhaps just sat around at dinner one night and he told her about him. "He's, uh, out in the garage huh?"

"Yep," was her curt answer, "probably making things worse than they are."

He thought for a moment about telling her again that whatever she was baking smelled great, but he held back. He glanced back one more time before he headed out to the garage.

OOOOO

The Judge heard him approaching as he let out a stream of expletives as he attempted to tighten something underneath the hood of the Corvette. "About time you showed up, I could use a hand here," Hardcastle said, leaning out and straightening up.

"I'd say that's an understatement. What are you trying to do?" McCormick briefly peered in to look at the engine. "Or better yet, what are you breaking now?"

"There's some blasted noise it's making and I want it to stop."

"Tell you what, why don't you start her up and let me hear what you're talking about. Maybe it's nothing at all and all you need is a hearing test."

"Ha, it's always something, it just started making it a couple of days ago," Hardcastle headed for the drivers side door. "I know how the car should sound McCormick. I don't need a hearing test."

"Yeah, you should know how it should sound, but it doesn't mean you do. What were you doing to it when it started making noises? Going too slow for conditions?" McCormick asked throwing in a jibe.

"Very funny, you know I don't pay you for your jokes?"

"Right," Mark paused and added, "You don't exactly pay me at all, just start it up will ya?"

Hardcastle sat down in the car half-way and turned the ignition. The noise started almost simultaneously.

"All right, that's good enough, shut her off, I know what it is," Mark said. The Judge turned the engine off and came out to watch McCormick.

"You know what it is?" Milt asked him.

"Yep," Mark wasn't giving up too much information.

"You gonna tell me?"

"No, I'm just going to fix it, because if I tell you, you're liable to do some real damage. And this isn't a car you should damage." He walked over to the bench and grabbed a socket wrench and went back to fiddling under the hood, as the Judge peered in to try and see what exactly he was doing.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Hardcastle asked him.

At first he didn't answer, preferring just to let his car savvy do his talking for him, but then he responded, "According to Sarah I do, I am a certified mechanic, right?" McCormick answered peering out and grinning at the Judge.

"She's got the certified part right, but I never mentioned to her that you were a mechanic," Milt offered up his own attempt at humor. "I told her you were a famous race car driver, though I think she suspected it when she saw your car."

Mark turned the conversation in another direction, "So you two talk about me huh?"

"We did, a little, why does that bother you?" Hardcastle asked. "It's not like we're gossiping like a couple of hens, I just told her a little about your background. She's got a right to know who she's cooking and cleaning up for you know?"

His background. That was a fairly broad way to say, ex-con, criminal and prison sentence and all the other descriptive ways to describe the fact he'd just finished two long years at San Quentin. McCormick shrugged and hesitated for a moment, "I'd never hurt her or anything," he paused and added, "She's not afraid of me or anything like that is she?"

"Who Sarah?" the Judge laughed broadly, "The woman's never feared anything a day in her life. The day she can't handle a smart aleck certified mechanic," he cracked, "is the day she'll be ready for her grave. And that day's a long way off. That is one tough old bird kiddo. You're the one who should be afraid of her. She'll expect a lot out of you."

McCormick was surprised by the Judge's choice of words, he half expected to hear car thief or ex-con, but even more surprising was that Hardcastle didn't even stumble or stammer, like he wouldn't have ever used those words to describe Mark. It served to give McCormick a moment or two of pause. Just when he thought he could pigeon-hole Hardcase into some sort of category, he showed another side of himself that would topple whatever stereotype he'd come up with. He finished the work he was doing and told the Judge to start it up again. The Judge obliged and this time the noise was gone.

"I'll be darned, what was it?" Hardcastle asked, peering out from the driver's side of the car.

"Judge being a certified mechanic is like being a magician, we never give away our secrets, besides, this way maybe you'll keep me around for awhile, if you think I can tune up your car from time to time." He set the socket wrench on the nearby bench. He turned his back on the Judge for a short time and didn't see the look of appreciation that the Judge had on his face.

"Well what did you decide on the files?" Hardcastle finally blurted out as he now peered in to look at the purring engine.

He wasn't surprised that the Judge changed the topic. "I decided that you should find yourself a new hobby for your retirement, you know like maybe I could help you get your own certified mechanic license. And let me just add that it's much easier to change your oil than it is to change someone's address to San Quentin."

"Are you finished?" Hardcastle asked.

Mark had a satisfied look on his face. "I really just wonder if you like doing this stuff this much?"

"Taking garbage off the street is something everyone should enjoy doing McCormick."

"Isn't that why we pay taxes, for garbage men?"

"You don't pay any taxes, _you_ do what I tell you to do," The Judge paused, "So who did you pick?" He went to turn off the car.

"You know I was really hoping that Carol Merrill would be standing in front of three different curtains, you get a better idea of which choice might be the best. I mean one wrong selection and you're stuck with the billy goat," Mark continued to crack, recalling the TV show 'Let's Make a Deal.'

The Judge was now on the move, heading out to the patio and McCormick followed on his heals. "Cut the Don Rickles okay McCormick, we've already wasted sunlight today, I'm trying to give you some slack here, you know, involve you, give you some ownership."

"No offense Judge but rope is still rope, and I'm not fond of hanging myself, picking out some low-life to chase around isn't exactly as much fun as you make it out to be."

"McCormick!" The Judge all but stopped walking and turned around to glare at McCormick. Mark nearly bumped into him. His patience was beginning to wear thin.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Mark said holding up his hands in defense, "I think we should go after Lou Seeton." He hoped that the Judge wouldn't ask him why or how he had come to his decision and Hardcastle didn't disappoint, because Mark didn't want to have to explain himself. McCormick thought however, that he could see the wheels turning in the Judge's head.

Hardcastle's mouth went off in another direction. "Seeton's a real piece of refuse kid. If we can put him behind bars for more than a few months this time, we'll really be doing society a favor. It's not going to be easy though?"

"Judge, what's it been now since you and I have known each other, a couple of years? Nothing's ever easy as far as you're concerned, I learned that a long time ago, easy isn't going to Quentin for stealing your own car you know?" McCormick said as they both started back into the house. He still waited for Hardcastle's question of why he chose the Seeton file over the other two but it never came.

"Let's sit down out of the sun and figure out how we're going to nail this piece of scum," Hardcastle now led McCormick back into the den. The heat of the day had risen.

Hardcastle took his familiar chair behind his desk and saw the somewhat neatly stacked files right in the center. "Did you just toss a coin or did you really look through them?" he asked McCormick. They appeared to be more orderly now than when he had handed them to the kid.

"I sifted through your abundant and overflowing files, just like you requested," was Mark's straightforward and un-incriminating answer. He took a seat on the edge of the desk.

"Well the first thing we need to do is find out what exactly LS Incorporated is up to besides no good. It's got to be the front for something, but I haven't been able to find anyone in the know yet,' Milt started.

"How about just going down to his office and seeing what it's all about?" McCormick suggested.

The Judge nodded, "Now that you're around, I think that's a great idea. I would have done it myself but Seeton knows me. I tried to put him away for embezzlement back in '76, but he paid off some rat named Nathanial Harron to take the fall for him. This jabron's been on my radar for a long time McCormick."

"Who hasn't?" McCormick decided another jibe at Hardcastle was in order. "That settles it then, I'll dust off my suit and tie and head downtown to see what his office is up to," Mark offered.

"Sounds good, just don't stick around too long, in and out, all right?"

"Not a problem Judge, I'm painfully aware that I have got plenty of chore's back here waiting for me."

OOOOO

Mark headed out and Milt headed into the kitchen to grab some lunch while he waited for McCormick to return. Sarah came in from doing some house-keeping and offered to make up a sandwich for him, which he gladly welcomed.

"The kid's got a way around a car engine," he started, still surprisingly pleased that McCormick had quickly fixed the noise in the Corvette. The conversation between he and Sarah was usually fairly concise and to the point.

"I wouldn't know," she answered him, getting the ingredients out of the refrigerator to begin to fix his lunch.

Hardcastle knew exactly what her response meant, "You know, I could ask him to take a look at the brakes on your car, you said they needed replacing."

Sarah had an unusually indirect way of saying things. She answered him with a question of her own. "Where did you send him off to now?"

"He's just running downtown to get us some information we need for our next case. He should be back in a couple of hours."

"Seems to me that he might just up and take that fancy car he's got and never come back," Sarah said.

The Judge scowled up his face. "It's been over six months Sarah, and it hasn't happened yet."

"Young Mister Phelps ran in the seventh month," she felt the need to remind him, not that he didn't recall Stevie Phelps himself. "But at least he's lasted longer than Mr. Beales. I don't know what you're trying to prove with all of this your honor."

"I'm not trying to prove anything," he paused, "I won't argue with you Sarah, this is all about personalities, that's for sure. But Phelps and Beales were different from McCormick." He wanted to add the word conmen to the statement but he held back. McCormick could be a conman too, but it was different.

While she prepared his lunch he kept thinking of the differences between his 'projects.' What he didn't do was change his style of dealing with them. He was himself, heck, he'd gotten through 64 years as Milton C. Hardcastle, now wasn't the time to try on a new personality, like him or leave him, this was his house, his idea for rehabilitation and they'd have to play by his rules. Phelps had nearly made it, until a close call with catching a perp that could have had fatal results had made him take another look at what he was doing with the Judge. Hardcastle rationalized that Phelps had gotten himself into the jam with the perp himself and he'd gotten there in the nick of time to prevent Phelps from being injured and they'd even managed to catch the crook and put him behind bars once and for all. Two days later though, Phelps went over the 'wall' himself and Hardcastle had no choice but to revoke his parole. Phelps thought he was a one-man criminal busting machine and never got quite used to taking orders or even working with Hardcastle.

JJ Beales was another case entirely. He was smart and he used every advantage he could toward one end, and that was JJ Beales. He never made it through their first case, rather he chose to make a break for it.

Nope Hardcastle needed some other element that was 'lacking' in both Phelps and Beales. Whether it was a mere feeling or inkling or something more concrete, Hardcastle wasn't sure yet, all he could do at the present was hope that this Mark McCormick had whatever 'it' was.

Sarah put the plate in front of him. "You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?" She asked.

"What?" The Judge cleared his throat, "No, I'm sorry Sarah what?"

"I said, one thing is for sure, that boy seems to have a mind for himself, he can be considerate and I like when he offers to do more than take up space around here. He doesn't wait to be asked all the time. He seems to appreciate things around here."

Hardcastle smiled at her assessment. "I'll have him check your brakes out too."

OOOOO

Mark walked into the nearly new office complex in the Dominion Tower. He checked the elevator directory for LS Incorporated and saw that Lou was set up for business on the 8th floor. Too bad he wasn't any higher, the view from his office window probably sucked. He quickly saw that D&D Publishing was in the office next door to LS, so he settled on a quick cover would be to 'accidentally' walk into the wrong office and then he'd politely ask what LS was all about.

He stepped into the elevator, glad that he'd grabbed an old leather briefcase of Hardcastle's to use as a business prop. He'd 'pretend' to have a manuscript inside to complete his cover.

He confidently opened the door to LS Incorporated and saw two completely gorgeous blonde receptionist/secretarial types each sitting behind their own desk. It took him a moment to restart his heart and then to decide which one of the ladies he'd walk up to approach. He chose the one on the right.

"Excuse me Miss, I have an appointment with Mr. Dryer."

Both women looked at him and the one he moved toward greeted him happily and replied, "I'm sorry sir, you came in the wrong office, D&D publishing is one door down." Other folks had probably made the mistake, so his cover had worked.

Mark turned quickly and glanced back toward the door, then back around to the woman, "I'm sorry, I thought I was paying attention to where I was going," he laughed, "Maybe I'll have to use that bit in my next novel," he gestured toward lifting up his briefcase to indicate the manuscript. He paused and then purposefully asked, "Might I ask what," he spun around again to see the LS on the door, then back to the woman, "what LS Incorporated does. It might work in the next book you know? I'm always looking for plot lines."

She smiled again and he noticed her nametag on the desk read G. Marek. She politely said. "Energy Futures."

He frowned, "Hmmm, energy futures, that's not exactly full of mystery or intrigue is it Ms. Marek?"

Ms. Marek giggled lightly as did her counterpart, Ms. A. Rook.

Mark dusted off one of his charming grins for both of them and laughed along with them. "Now say if LS Incorporated was maybe an art dealer or perhaps an International Import Dealer, there'd be some sort of delicious crime of some sort, but I'm sorry ladies, energy futures doesn't exactly scream murder mystery."

"You write murder mysteries?" Ms. Rook asked, her voice perked up with intrigue.

He nodded confidently, "Mark Moxley," he went over to shake her hand, "Perhaps you've read my latest novel, 'A judge, a con and a housekeeper? I won't spoil it by telling you who killed whom.'" He looked to both of them and they both nodded no. "No? Well I wish I could give you each a copy right now, but I don't have any with me. Tell you what, I'll take your business cards and send you each a copy, how would that be?"

"I would love it," Ms. Rook answered. Ms. Marek nodded her agreement.

"Great," Mark said, grabbing each of their cards, then he asked, "Perhaps I could have one of your bosses cards as well, in case I come up with an angle on the energy futures, you know I could give him a call and ask him a few questions?"

Ms. Marek quickly found him a card for Lou Seeton.

Mark grinned again and bid the newest members of his fan club adieu and out the door he went.

OOOOO

McCormick had changed into some work clothes and was pulling Sarah's car into the garage so that he could take a look at her brakes.

"You know you don't have to do this today?" Hardcastle said, standing in the doorway watching him as he set up a work area. "I just thought I'd ask if you could take a look, that's all."

"Yeah, sure Judge, but you and I both know that Sarah shouldn't be driving around with bad brakes, and that yutz of a mechanic she went to was going to take her and her money for a ride. You want her to be safe don't you?"

"Well, still, it's coming up on supper time," Milt reasoned. "And another day or two isn't going to hurt. The woman maybe puts a couple of miles a day on her car McCormick. What could possibly happen?"

"You don't mess around with faulty brakes Judge. This is Sarah we're talking about." McCormick nodded as he set out some tools on a nearby drop cloth. "So, I'll take a quick break to eat and try to get it finished up tonight for her. I figure you got plans for us tomorrow anyway right? We don't need to be worrying about Sarah while we're out hunting down your lawbreakers."

Hardcastle stepped out of the early evening sun and leaned back against the work bench. His focus was shifting to the latest case. "Just what the hell are energy futures anyway? I'm telling you that Seeton is the biggest scammer known to man. How does he convince anyone that there is some sort of money to be made in something like that?"

"I'm not entirely sure what they are either, but man, if it meant I could hire two gorgeous women like that, I do it myself. At that point, who cares what they are, just find a way to pay the girls their salaries you know? The guy is brilliant in that regard." McCormick stopped what he was doing just to recall Ms. Rook and Ms. Marek.

"Aw, would you quit thinking of the two women? Clean out your brain for a change. Besides, you know chances are their salaries aren't on the up and up. Seeton probably ripped someone off to pay them."

"Well, the ladies probably don't know that," McCormick added, hoping that Hardcastle wasn't thinking of placing those beautiful women under arrest.

"No, you're right, it's just an office job for them. It's a shame thought that they'll be out of work when we nail this scumbag. I'm gonna make a few calls and see if anyone knows anything about this thing," Milt said, heading back inside.

"Hey, call me when it's time for dinner all right?"

Mark went back to working on Sarah's car. His mind however, was already whirring with how he could find out about energy futures and more specifically Lou Seeton and energy futures. Funny how differently he was beginning to feel about doing this sort of thing with the Judge. Heck, if anyone had suggested it a few short months ago, he'd have probably still be laughing about the mere idea that he would be running around playing Tonto to this Lone Ranger. Yet here it was and there was something, well, interesting, to say the least about it. He could use his charm and wit and get away with it all in the name of law and order. Who would have ever thought of that?

Of course there was still an element of danger, bad guys with say automatic weapons, erratic car chases, and getting clobbered, generally topped the list and then there was always the threat of being sent back to Quentin for parole violation if he somehow managed to mess up with Hardcastle. And he knew that Hardcastle wouldn't hesitate to revoke it in a heartbeat. He wanted to stay out of prison just as much as Hardcase wanted to catch criminals, maybe even more. Was it what he thought his life was going to be? Not at all, but for the time being, it was working and there was some peace of mind in that.

He got to work on Sarah's brakes and he began to plan out how he could find out more about Lou Seeton and his energy futures. And he knew it would be best to keep his plan to himself.

OOOOO

McCormick took about twenty minutes out of the brake repair job to chow down on a delicious baked ham dinner that Sarah had made, followed by chocolate cake for dessert. The woman clearly knew how to set a table. He felt a little guilty by eating and ducking back out to the garage, and he apologized about a hundred times to Sarah while he ate, but he wanted to get her brakes finished up, so he could devote his attention back to the case that he and the Judge were starting to work on.

It was coming up on about 11pm and he was just adjusting the last brake pad on Sarah's car. The work light illuminated the inside of the garage and a light rain began to fall outside.

He didn't even hear the Judge come outside, but he heard his voice. "You should think about knocking off tonight kiddo."

'Hi there Judge, thought you'd be engrossed in a John Wayne movie by now." McCormick continued his work, "This is the last one, then I'm done. She shouldn't have anymore problems with brakes for at least 30,000 miles."

"I'll make sure you get paid for this," the Judge was saying.

Mark slid out from under the car, "What are you going to do Hardcase? Take it out of her paycheck and put it in mine?" He had to tease him, it was only natural when he walked into those sort of things.

The Judge rolled his eyes and was annoyed by the comment. "I'm not a complete cheapskate McCormick, contrary to what you think. I'm just saying you'll get paid for doing this sort of thing."

McCormick plucked a rag from off the ground and began to wipe off the grease from his hands. "I could send you an itemized bill, you know, time, materials."

"I already paid for the materials this afternoon in case you forgot. That was my credit card over at the auto shop," Milt was quick to remind him.

Mark laughed. "I know, I know. But you do know where to send the check to right? That little old gatehouse just down the pathway," he stuck out his thumb to point the way.

"Coming up on midnight I'd think that mouth of yours would start to dwindle down with the smart aleck remarks."

That made Mark grin, "Are you kidding me? I'm just getting fired up now, this is prime time for me Judge."

"On that note, I'm heading to bed. Make sure you turn out the lights okay?"

"Yeah, I'll put away all my toys too, right after I take her car out for a ride, just to check everything out, but I won't be late, I promise."

"See ya in the morning for basketball?" The Judge left it as a question.

"I'll be there."

OOOOO

McCormick cleaned up his mess in the garage, grabbed a quick shower, a change of clothes, and a pocket full of specialized breaking-in tools and headed back outside into the darkness.

Taking Sarah's car to a break-in wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done in his brief life, but he had to admit the 'taking it for a test drive' was a great excuse to not make the Judge the least bit suspicious about what he was up to. He really hadn't planned on working on her brakes for as long as he had, but they were in really bad shape and he had to do more to them than replace the pads. This was turning into a very long day.

He drove back to the office building that contained LS Incorporated and parked around the block and walked in. Good thing with these office buildings was that the main entrance would always be open and just the individual offices would get locked. He noticed the main door was set up this way earlier in the day and had also noticed what it would take to get into Seeton's Office.

There was a security guard on duty in the lobby, but he was more interested in an old rerun of I Love Lucy, than he was on who was coming or going. He briefly caught McCormick out of the corner of his eye as Mark made his way over to the elevator. McCormick decided that if he acted like he belonged there that the security guard wouldn't give him a second thought and it had worked.

Back up to the 8th floor and then down the hall. He had noticed from outside that there were no lights on inside Seeton's office, so he should be able to quickly pick the lock, get in, find what he needed to find and then get out.

His first problem was the cleaning lady on the 8th floor. It appeared as though she was inside D&D Publishing, which probably meant she was either already finished with LS or planning on going into LS next. He glanced at his watch, it was coming up on 1am already, and though his adrenaline had kicked a few hours ago, he'd really wished he was back in his bed. 6:30am was going to come around real soon if he didn't get moving with the task at hand.

He walked by the office and saw that she was taking her time, actually using the phone in the office to talk with her boyfriend 'Tonio,' all the while pushing a vacuum back and forth over the same spot. Everyone had the same angle, he thought, work as little as humanly possible, he paused to smile at the thought that he'd done the same sort of thing in his own life.

McCormick felt that he'd be in the clear, no way she'd hear over the vacuum cleaner or the loud conversation she was having with Tonio. He pulled out his tool kit and crouched down to one knee to work the lock open at LS. It took him an extra second or two as his slightly nervous finger dropped the pick and it nearly slid under the locked door. Fortunately, it was sticking out just enough and he was able to retrieve it. Good thing Hardcastle wasn't with him or that may have been disastrous.

He finished with the lock and felt the click and turned the knob and went inside. He went straight to the Seeton's office and found another locked door. Old Lou obviously didn't trust the two blondes. Mark pulled out a slightly smaller tool for this particular door and it worked like a charm on the first maneuver. He turned that knob and he was in.

He felt for the light on the side of the wall and found it by turning it on. He went to Lou's desk first. Seeton had a calendar with different times and first names and initials written down all over every day of the month, but nothing jumped out to Mark. There were no other files on his desk, so McCormick went to the files next.

He cleverly decided his first thing to look up would be Energy Futures and lo and behold, there was a file labeled with just such words. Mark pulled out the file and went and sat down behind the desk to see just what was in the file.

To the average person, energy futures were indeed legitimate. New companies were hastily coming up with new energy ideas and solutions for the world. The biggies being nuclear, wind, water and the ever popular petroleum based. But there were also some narrower ideas out there, such as bio-fuel. And there was one company that stood out in particular to Mark McCormick. The name was _Malibioenergy_ and apparently there was some sort of power plant right up the road from where Mark and Milt lived. Plus _Malibioenergy_ was on Seeton's calendar.

He powered up the copier in the outer office and ran off some copies on old Lou's dime and put everything back to just as how it had been and locked everything back up and out the office building he went.

OOOOO

The basketball alarm clock he now had greeted him at 6:23am. Hardcase was even earlier than usual. He'd gotten just under three hours of sleep when it was all said and done. And every fiber of his being was telling him that wasn't nearly enough. Now wasn't the time to think about sleep though, now was the time to get up, get dressed and go try to beat the donkey in a game of one on one. He had to try to keep on track with Hardcase, not to make it appear as if anything was off kilter. If he didn't, the Judge would never let him hear the end of it.

He crawled out of bed, glad he remembered to sleep in his sweat pants and an old t-shirt. All he needed were his shoes and he'd be ready to take on the Judge in the daily ritual. Down the stairs he went, trying to stifle a yawn. This was going to be a rough morning. His shoes awaited him at the bottom and he slid them on and went outside.

The Judge had already worked up a sweat from the workout he had begun some ten minutes earlier.

"You're late sport!" The Judge said, firing up a free throw.

"Yeah well, take it out of my pay for the brake job okay?" McCormick answered. He yawned again and it was also noticed by the Judge.

"Out pretty late huh?" Hardcastle commented.

Mark stopped mid-yawn. "Not really, but that brake job was a pretty big deal. Besides I promised Sarah it wouldn't take me long to beat you anymore anyway remember? You know you're just burning yourself out, out here, making it really easy for me to win Judge."

Hardcastle let the yawning and lateness go for now. He didn't particularly like it when the kid teased his basketball ability. "Wanna go for another $20 today?"

Mark nodded his curly head and the game was on.

OOOOO

McCormick stuffed the twenty dollars into his pocket and followed Hardcastle into the house for the usual breakfast. Today was the first time he actually thought the Judge had actually let him win. Of course, he could never prove it, nor would Hardcase admit to it, but still his gut was telling him that he had just walked away with an easy $20. There's no way he could no what McCormick had been up to or the time he'd been up to overnight.

Just inside the door, the Judge blurted out, "Not too bad for a guy who only got a couple of hours of sleep."

McCormick's head perked up, "What? What are you talking about?" 

"I'm talking about the fact that you rolled home about 3:30am. You want to tell me where you were?"

Sarah glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, waiting to hear the answer as well.

McCormick looked from one to the other and didn't say anything right off. Hardcastle decided to continue. "You were in Sarah's car remember? We both got a right to know where exactly you were."

"Awww, you were waiting up for me Judge?" McCormick asked sarcastically.

"No, I wasn't, but when a car pulls up my _private_ driveway at 3:30 in the morning, I notice it. Now, where were you?"

"What if I told you there was a problem with the brakes?" Mark said.

Sarah, still listening in, spoke up, "You didn't crack up my car or worse yourself did you?" McCormick was surprised and touched by her comment of cracking up himself.

Milt didn't let Mark say anything. "He didn't crack anything up," the Judge said, seeing through Mark's comment. "There's nothing wrong with the brakes is there kiddo?"

McCormick had taken a seat at the table and he looked down at the table for a moment. "No Sarah, the brakes are fine, the car's okay, I'm okay."

The Judge was busy pouring himself some coffee. "So where the hell were you then?"

"I wanted to find out what energy futures are," McCormick said.

"At 3:30am?" The Judge spun around and moved toward the table. "Most people would find out that sort of thing during the daylight hours. Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to want to hear this?"

"Why do you always think I'm doing something I shouldn't do?" Mark asked.

"Maybe because when I think that, it's true, and quit avoiding giving me an answer," Hardcastle said. "Why do we have to go through this every time you decide to do something without checking with me first? Aren't you learning anything here?"

This time Sarah didn't give him a chance to answer. She brought them each a plate of food, chock full that was nearly overflowing. "You didn't use my car to do something criminal did you Mark?"

McCormick felt like he was being scolded by a couple of cuddly, but sharp grandparents. "Now Sarah, I wouldn't do that."

"No, but you used her car to get you somewhere didn't you?"

Mark couldn't contain the grin that was forming on his face. "I filled up her tank, and gave her an oil change too," he offered as a meaningless excuse.

"Are you going to tell me in this lifetime?" Hardcastle had begun to dig into his food.

Mark started to eat too, "I found out what they are and I found a place that might be able to give us some more answers too." The best way to avoid the question was just to give Hardcastle the information he wanted.

Milt's mouth was full, so he narrowed his eyes and gave McCormick a nod as if to say, keep going."

"Energy futures are something you well, well, you gamble with, they're new fuel sources, new companies who have some sort of research and technology to make new kinds of fuel a viable choice for the future. Like nuclear power, there's like a million kinds of off-shoots to how to make it, how to deliver it, all that sort of thing"

"And just how does this tie into our buddy Seeton?" Milt wondered.

"He's obviously 'gambling' on some upstart type companies and one of them is right in our own backyard so to speak, it's just up the road, a place called _Malibioenergey._ I'm not exactly sure what they do, but I figured we can work on that today," Mark said, shoveling some more of his breakfast into his mouth.

Milt ate the last of what was on his plate and watched the kid in fascination as he spoke. "Okay, so you found out about energy futures, but that doesn't answer how you got the information."

Mark didn't say anything. He actually was hoping that Hardcase would forget, at least for the time being and at least in front of Sarah.

Sarah was quick to add, "And you better not have done anything illegal with my car."

"Sarah, I would never do that," he said ignoring Hardcastle while trying to placate Sarah.

"You had better not young man," she added sternly, grabbing away his plate as he put the last mouthful onto his fork, almost before he had a chance to stab it. "The Judge could send you back to prison for that, but I'll make your list around her so long that your head will swim."

McCormick was silent for a moment. He didn't know which one of them was more serious, though at the moment he was betting on Sarah. "That was a great breakfast once again Sarah, thank you," he began, seeing the dour look on both their faces, "I don't get you two, you're acting like Grandma and Grandpa Walton," Mark began, "I fixed your brakes," he said looking at Sarah, 'and found out what energy futures are all about," he said to the Judge. "It's not like I'm running moonshine in the Blue Ridge Mountains with JimBob. Can you two cut me some slack here?"

Sarah and Milt both had to be smiling on the inside. But with the Judge you could never tell. "Let's continue this in the den," Milt said, rising up, apparently not enjoying his cute remarks. So much for slack. Sarah merely gave him an equally unemotional look. He stood up pensively and followed the Judge.

"Alright wise guy, what exactly did you do with her car?"

"I went out and got a few more answers to some questions, that's all," McCormick answered. "Her brakes are fine and I got you some leads."

"Look, Sarah's way off in the kitchen now, so if you did something you weren't supposed to do, you better tell me right now. It'll be much better for all of us."

"Is that supposed to scare me?"

Hardcastle was getting more steamed by the minute. "You're not going to tell me are you?"

"Like I said, I fixed her brakes and got your information, no high speed chases were involved and I did it all on about three hours of sleep, that ought to be worth some sort of penance."

"If you want a sacrament kiddo, you ought to go to confession. Heck it might do you a world of good actually."

"Are you suggesting that I lied to you, your honor?" Mark asked.

Hardcastle avoided answering. He knew he wasn't going to get the answer he needed from McCormick. "Go get changed, let's go pay a visit to this _Malibioenergy_ and then maybe the police too.

OOOOO

They hopped into the Judge's truck and headed up the PCH toward the address that Mark had jotted down for _Malibioenergy_.

"Judge, we can't just go into this place and say 'hi, we're wondering how you know Lou Seeton.' We got have some sort of plan."

Hardcastle kept focused on the road but was thinking about what the kid was saying. "You got any ideas?"

McCormick sat up a little straighter. "Well, what if I try to get a job there? You know, work it from the inside?"

"Like you're dressed to go apply for a job?" The Judge took in a deep breath and turned ever so slightly and with a smile asked, "And what exactly do you know about bio-energy?"

McCormick scowled, "I don't need to be a rocket scientist to like clean floors or do something like that. But I'd still be in there, you know. And I think I saw one of your ties here in the truck," he leaned over and sure enough, there was one stuck behind the seat.

"Could be hard work," Milt suggested.

"As long as there aren't any car chases or gun play, I think I'll be able to handle it," he gave the Judge a grin.

OOOOO

Mark came strolling back out into the visitor's parking lot of _Malibioenergy _up to the pick-up truck where Milt impatiently waited. Milt saw him loosening up his tie as he came closer.

"So, what happened?"

"I start tonight, 3rd shift, 10pm – 7am."

"That's a tough schedule," Hardcastle said, "What kind of a miserable job did they give you?"

McCormick sat back and spread out his arm against the back of the seat and didn't say anything right off.

"Hey, you can tell me okay, I had a lot of crummy jobs in my life time too. What is it? Cleaning toilets? Emptying garbage?" Hardcastle began to drive off.

"You _so_ underestimate me and my abilities Hardcastle. Someday, maybe you'll see in me what other people do Hardcase," McCormick said.

"What's that supposed to mean? When do I underestimate you? Would you just tell me what they hired you to do?"

"I'm the lead facilitator," McCormick boasted.

"What the hell is a lead facilitator McCormick? What's that, a fancy name for someone who sweeps floors?"

"Ha, you wish. Near as I can tell, it's a person who stands at the top of this platform, wears a white lab coat and some funny looking safety glasses and makes sure that every other grunt down below in the plant is doing something."

"You are in so deep kiddo," Hardcastle paused, "What kind of malarkey did you feed them to get a job like that."

"I told them I had a degree from Berkeley in Chemical Engineering."

"And they bought it? Look at you? I mean, I'm glad we had a tie for you to put on, but you didn't even go in there in a suit coat for crying out loud and you're telling me they made you some sort of a manager?"

McCormick sported a grin from ear to ear as he removed the Judge's ancient tie's that just happened to be in the truck. He was glad he had put on a button down shirt this morning and was more amazed that the tie actually matched it, even with the tiny embedded ketchup stain. "I told them I was still working on paying off my student loans, you know, I just needed someone to give me a chance and they bought it, what can I say?"

Hardcastle shook his head in amazement. "I gotta hand it to you kiddo, you can lie with the best of them."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he paused, "and don't worry, the second shift guy is going to give me some training and then I'm going to stick around and work a few hours with the first shift lead too. It'll be fine. I'll just mimic them."

"When are you supposed to sleep, if you're working all three shifts?"

"Judge, I'm 29, I'm a chemical engineer, I can sleep when I'm dead okay? I thought you'd be happy about this. We're gonna nail Seeton, I can feel it. Another one of your boys will be put away."

"I just don't want you to get carried away McCormick, you know one of these days, someone besides me might see through your lies."

"Judge, I'm just going to do this long enough to get some info on Seeton. I don't intend on making working at _Malibioenergy_ a career. Although they are starting me out at 45 grand a year," he grinned again.

"What?" Hardcastle couldn't believe his ears. "45 grand to stand around and watch other people work?" McCormick nodded. "Now I know it's a scam of some sort going on in there. You got that job way too easy, and that salary is outrageous. You better stay on your toes in there, you could have just been set up."

"I know, I know, I'm thinking the same thing, but I'm in, so let's see what happens."

OOOOO

The next several days were a blur to Mark. He ended up going in about 8pm every night and working until about noon the following morning, so that he could shadow the 1st and 2nd shift Lead Facilitator's and learn the inner workings of _Malibioenergy_.

Quietly and surprisingly every morning and evening, Sarah would silently sneak into the gatehouse, unbeknownst to Mark and leave a trayful of food, along with more 'additions' to her every growing list. He'd try to whittle off a few every day in between his work, but her chores were pretty lengthy in the time it would take to them, as well as back breaking too. He didn't complain though, it was stuff that needed to get done around the estate and he welcomed the time to be off by himself just to clear his mind.

His 'training' at _Malibioenergy_ didn't allow him much time to go prowling around for anything illegal on the power plant or on Lou Seeton, but he still knew that Seeton was supposed to show up at the plant within the next few days, according to the calendar he'd seen in Lou's office. Working at Malibioenergy was actual work and he began to wonder if this was just a job or if there was something more going on. There'd been no sign of Seeton or even a mention of him or of LS Incorporated.

In the meantime, Milt spent his days running things from the outside including keeping in touch with Frank and the rest of the LAPD. Harper didn't have anything on _Malibioenergy_ either, but at least he knew that Milt and Mark were looking into things and the information could flow both ways if anything came up. Lou Seeton was keeping a low profile.

The third day in, Milt came driving up just as Mark had also just pulled in. McCormick was using the Judge's truck to get to and from his 'job.' Hardcastle was using the Corvette. It was better to keep somewhat inconspicuous and if Mark showed up in the Coyote, people might start to talk.

Mark eased himself out of the truck, stretched and squinted his eyes from the noon day sun as the Judge got out too. He wished he could use his two weeks of vacation that _Malibioenergy_ was giving him, because he could use one right about now.

"Anything new?" the Judge asked, noticing the tired look in McCormick's eyes.

"Not unless you think Ricky Rodriguez's lunch break with the spoiled egg salad sandwich is of interest to you," McCormick started.

"I don't think I want to know," Milt made a face, already knowing where that conversation would head.

McCormick nodded his agreement, "You're right, you don't, it was pretty nasty though. Makes me real glad I went for the Lead Facilitator job rather than custodian position. I heard the bathroom was a mess."

Hardcastle shielded a smile. Here the kid was doing a job and a half, plus still taking care of things around the estate, he looked tired as hell and he still had the where with all to display his biting humor. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?" Milt suggested.

He shook his head no, "Sarah wanted me to do something around here when I got back, so I'm just gonna take care of that. It's been on her list for like a week now and I keep blowing it off. 'Sides, I can never just fall asleep when I get home from work, so I might as well just get to it.."

"I'll talk to her, she'll understand," Milt offered. "You can't keep going at this pace."

Mark shook his head, "Nah, don't do that, she's been really nice to me Judge, bringing me over food and stuff," he looked over to Hardcastle who wasn't quite buying his explanation," Judge, I'm fine, in fact, I feel so good that I'm ready to take you on in a little game before I take care of Sarah's chores. Whatta ya say? You want to go for a quick $10?" McCormick threw down the challenge.

"Right now?" Hardcastle asked.

"Yeah, I've sort of missed beating you every morning," Mark gave him a smile.

"You don't win every day," Milt reminded him.

Mark nodded, "Okay, I do let you win every now and again."

"Let's go wise guy."

OOOOO

"I don't know Judge, this place seems pretty legitimate to me. There's been nothing out of the ordinary. We're just producing this bio-fuel twenty four hours a day."

"What's the stuff made out of?" Milt asked, as they sat down to dinner.

"I asked Todd and he said it was a combination of recycled paper and soybeans."

Hardcastle laughed out loud. "How can that possibly be a fuel source, McCormick? Think of how ridiculous that sounds. And you call yourself a chemical engineer," he threw in McCormick's fake cover for good measure.

"I didn't invent it Judge, I'm just one of the Lead Facilitators. It's my job to make sure everything on the line below keeps moving along," McCormick said. "I'm not supposed to know how it works, I'm just supposed to make sure it gets mixed."

"Well, is everything on the up and up? You've been there for four days now, something's got to be going on."

"Judge, right now I see the beans coming in one line and the paper coming down another line and they get crushed and come out together all mixed and pulverized. Todd says we sell the end product to California Light and Power and they use it as a renewable energy source. Their trucks are there all the time hauling the stuff away. It all seems legitimate."

Hardcastle shook his head in frustration. "We're missing something here kiddo. It's just not adding up."

"I agree with you Judge. I guess it's just gonna take time. I'm taking Todd's 1st shift tomorrow, so maybe Seeton will drop by or I'll find something out that I can't find out during the day. You know the 3rd shift is pretty quiet. Guys just want to do the job and go home." Sarah came in with a beef roast which she put on the table. "That looks great Sarah. I don't think I've been so hungry in my whole life."

"That's what good old fashioned work will do for you kiddo," the Judge intoned.

"The pool needs cleaning," Sarah said.

Mark nodded, "I was planning on doing it right after dinner Sarah."

"Things are beginning to slack off around here your Honor," she felt it necessary to add. "I'm not sure this is working, the boy can't keep doing two jobs like this."

The Judge waved her off and gave McCormick a partial eye roll. "Sarah, we're working here. You know what happens when we work."

"Hmmmph, things around here fall apart, that's what happens," she said, walking back into the kitchen.

"I really need to get that pool done for her tonight. I've let it go way too long, it's starting to turn green," Mark said, quickly eating his dinner.

"Just don't let yourself get too run down, you need to be sharp in case we get a break in this thing."

"I know, I know," McCormick said, shoveling in the last of the food and heading outside.

OOOOO

While McCormick went to work the following day, Hardcastle decided he needed to trace this fuel from the other end. He was going to stake out the plant and watch for California Light and Power Trucks to pick up a load. He figured he'd follow one of them and see where it might lead him. McCormick was right, the CLP trucks were moving in and out faster than Milt could count. Part of him wondered if CLP even had this many trucks for a job like this. He'd have to put in a call to one of his friends, another Judge who just happened to be on the CLP Board of Directors. He'd get a real answer to that question. There was no doubt about that.

After about twenty minutes of seeing the traffic, he decided to follow the next one out. Near as he could tell it was taking him toward one of the CLP plants, but it suddenly took a sharp left about a block from the nearest plant. He stayed a safe distance back, so that he could be as inconspicuous as possible. The CLP truck got onto the interstate and headed out into the northern part of the county. There were no power plants in the vicinity, so where were they hauling this stuff? The truck took one more turn onto a rural highway and then turned into what appeared to be a massive corporate farming operation. Hardcastle's head began to roll. He saw the CLP truck dump the load into a silo. It wasn't some sort of super bio-fuel for the future, it was a low-cost, watered down feed for animals. No doubt Seeton was probably raking in all kinds of dough on this one. This was some kind of crazy scam, feeding livestock recycled paper mixed with soybean, under the guise of energy futures and now he just needed to be able tie all the angles together. It looked like he could get the Department of Agriculture involved on this too. He'd have a few calls to make right after he left this scene. He could only hope that maybe McCormick was having some luck during the 1st shift too.

Milt watched for another hour or so and saw six CLP trucks come and go and they all unloaded the so-called fuel directly into a feed silo. What he didn't see was a car with a couple of goons pull up along side of him until it was too late. They shoved a gun in his face and then yanked him out of his car to their waiting vehicle.

OOOOO

Over at _Malibioenergy _things were proceeding as they had for the past four days. The soybeans and the paper were pouring in and converging and then getting loaded in the CLP trucks. Mark watched everything proceed quietly from his perch overlooking the mix line. Across the platform, in the executive's offices he began to notice some movement. He kept his eyes both on what was going on in the floor, but also what was going on in office. The floor caught his attention first. Something had clogged up the recycled paper line and Mark got on the phone to find out what the hold up was on the line. The floor supervisor answered the call and told him that the paper pulverizer had something jammed up at the initial entrance sight and the maintenance line worker was quickly working to un-jam the clog. McCormick asked if they needed any additional help and the floor supervisor said no, they had all the help they could fit in the small confined area. Mark hung up and watched impatiently as everything on the floor had come to a standstill.

He glanced across the way and his eyes immediately fixed on a new person who had joined the bustle in the office area. It was Lou Seeton. He was a few years older than what McCormick remembered, but he knew it was him right away. Seeton must have felt his eyes because he scanned the area opposite him and fixed on McCormick. Mark hoped he didn't recognize him, but he couldn't be sure. He went back to his 'job' and getting the lines back running smoothly

As he looked down to the floor, he saw someone else familiar to him. It was Hardcastle and he was being shoved and manhandled, past the line workers and then up the stairs. Anger began to build within him. How'd they connect the Judge? Two guys he didn't recognize had a hidden gun shoved in his back and they were taking him toward the office area. _What had the donkey stumbled onto now?_ And what exactly was McCormick going to do to get them both out of this pickle. He didn't have a lot of time to think this one through, but he knew he had to do something and do it quickly.

He gave one more check on Seeton, who had suddenly disappeared from view, which worried him too. Lou and the Judge were already acquainted. The phone was ringing right next to him and it jarred him. He picked it up.

"What?" he shouted over the din of the machinery below. The voice on the other end was the floor supervisor telling him that the paper line was moving again and production was about to begin. "Great, let's get it going then, we're behind now and we need to make up the time," Mark said. He hung up the phone and watched Hardcastle tromp up the stairs. Milt finally spotted Mark across the way and sort of gave him an inconspicuous nod. McCormick ran his hand over his face. Only a mule like Hardcase would think that he and McCormick stood any kind of a chance against a factory full of goons, led by a criminal mastermind like Lou Seeton. Neither Hardcastle nor McCormick had any clue as to how many of these 'workers' might be involved.

The phone rang again. Mark checked the line below and saw that it was running smoothly. _What the hell now?_ He picked up the phone on the second ring. "What's the problem now?"

"Oh, I think you know exactly what the problem is," the voice on the other side of the line said.

"What? Who is this?" Mark didn't recognize the voice.

"Take a guess."

"Seeton?" Mark said.

"Hey, see, you're not so stupid after all. I remember you from Quentin. Mr. McCormick right or should I say Mr. Moxley? Or are you using another name today? I've had my eyes on your for the last week now. Let's see, it was Grand Theft Auto, back a few years ago? You were just a baby back then. But we have something in common after all, don't we?" Seeton was saying.

"What's that?" McCormick asked.

"That would be one Judge Milton C. Hardcastle." McCormick didn't say anything. "Ah, you do know him then? You know I have an interesting little video of you breaking into my office too, the night after you came and met my two lovely office assistants. I didn't recognize you then though. But when you showed up here looking for a job, well then I remembered you. And I'm so glad that _Malibioenergy _was able to find a job to fit your tremendously underrated skills. What exactly do you and the Judge do anyway?"

McCormick decided to sound like Hardcastle as long as Seeton seemed to know that they were working together. "We try to put scum like you back in prison where you belong," Mark said, his smart mouth beginning to kick in.

Seeton laughed. "Listen, come on over to the office and we'll see if you can do just that. I'd love to prove you wrong."

Mark slammed the phone down and headed over toward the office on the other side of the platform.

OOOOO

As Seeton hung up the phone Hardcastle started to talk. "So, what's this all about anyway Lou? I think I have most of it figured out, but why don't you clear it all up for me?"

Seeton took a step toward the seated Hardcastle. "You know what your Honor, I'd rather hear about you and McCormick. What exactly are the two of you up to?"

"You wouldn't understand any little part of it Lou," Hardcastle said.

"No? Try me Hardcase. You think you're changing his life around?" Seeton joked. "You're some sort of Father Flannigan now? He's a con, he's not going to go for the straight and narrow. Guys like you won't ever understand that."

"He's changing his own life around," Milt practically interrupted him.

"How touching. Why didn't you do that for me?" Seeton asked with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Some people can't change or won't change, no matter how much you want or try to help them," the Judge explained.

"You're right about that, I could never quite walk the straight and the narrow. But how do you know McCormick is? I mean maybe he's playing _you_ Judge. Did you stop to think about that?"

"I told you Lou, he's changing his own life around."

"The funny thing is that you actually believe that Hardcase." Seeton looked out the office window as McCormick appeared to be on a mission as he walked over to where they were. "And if that is the truth, he's a fool."

"Let me ask you Lou, this whole scam you have going, all this so-called fuel is is just cheap feed for cattle?"

Seeton spun back around. "I don't give two hoots about the cattle or the bio-fuel Judge. It's just about money, lots of money. I'm just helping facilitate it all. And it's something I can do and get away with. That's what it's all about to me."

"That's where you're wrong Lou, this operation is going to be shut down."

Seeton had to laugh, "Sorry to burst your bubble Judge, but in case you don't realize it, you and McCormick are the ones who are going to be shut down, though it's seriously crossing my mind to see if McCormick wants to come back to the dark side. He's a man of many talents. I could use someone with his skills."

"Don't bet it on it Seeton."

Seeton dropped the conversation and went to wait outside the main office for Mark to show up. "Mr. McCormick is it?"

"Cut the crap Seeton, what do you want?"

"What do I want?" Seeton laughed. "Seems to me I have exactly what I want, like I always do. You law and orderly types just can't seem to collar me."

"Where's Hardcastle?" Mark asked him.

"Inside," Seeton nodded toward the office. "Go on in, he's okay for right now."

McCormick brushed past him and saw Milt sitting in the chair off in the corner. Another goon still had his gun pointed right at his head.

"You all right Judge?" Mark asked.

Milt nodded, "I guess I blew your cover, sorry kiddo."

"We got bigger problems than that right now," McCormick responded.

Seeton walked in behind them. "Judge Hardcastle, I thought you retired?" Seeton said.

"From the bench I did, from putting scum back behind bars, never," Milt answered.

"And so what makes you think you can put me away?" Seeton asked.

"We know you're up to no good Seeton. Watering down feed for livestock under the cover of creating some sort of bio-fuel. And you're filling your pockets with the money. I bet those are even fake CLP trucks? How does that sound for starters?" Hardcastle asked.

"I think you have a long way to go to prove any of it," Seeton smirked.

"Not really, we just have a few more lines to draw between some dots," Hardcastle said. "The cops know what we've been working on, it won't be long till they shut you down once and for all."

McCormick glanced around the office and it appeared to be just two on two. He and the Judge could probably get out of this one, but they'd have to put the drop down quick in order to take advantage of it. He didn't know how many other people were in on this down in the plant or in some of the other offices and where might they be? He checked on Hardcastle who he knew was thinking the same thing and he was just about ready to take on the guy who had the gun pointed at his head. McCormick needed to be ready to go after Seeton.

"You've got nothing Hardcase and after we take care of you and your protégé here, we can get back to doing exactly what we do," Seeton said. "You know McCormick, you're way too talented to be working on the side of law and order."

"As flattering as that sounds Seeton, I've already made my choice of where I want to be, you don't have enough money to buy me off," McCormick said as he was poised and ready to make his move on Seeton, he turned ever so slightly so that he could go after him. He kept the Judge in the corner of his eye. "You're not going to get away with any of this Seeton. Do you really think the Judge here, 'ole by the book Hardcase, is going to come into something like this without a plan? The cops are going to be here any second."

Seeton laughed yet again. "I've seen all those movies too McCormick. Try to make me think that the cops are going to come busting in here. The two of you are sure an amusing pair. This isn't a movie set though. Nice try. Hardcastle's got nothing and neither do you. You two crime fighters are just about finished. And this is quite nice, something totally unexpected, to put you two away. Perhaps I should thank you for that." He looked past Mark to the goon and said, "Let's go, get these two out of here, take 'em out the back way."

Hardcastle stood up and delivered a smashing blow to the side of the goon's head. He went down to one knee and the gun went flying from his hand.

McCormick took a couple of steps and grabbed hold of Seeton and let his right hand fly into Lou's face. Seeton wasn't about to give in this quickly. He came back charging at Mark and the two of them got into an all-out scuffle while Hardcastle continued to work the goon over and began to get the best of him. He could only hope that McCormick was having the same luck with Seeton.

Mark and Lou were trading punches and kicks and had made their way out of the office and were now fighting on the hanging platform, overlooking the production line. The workers below began to turn away from their jobs and look up to see what was going on above them. The good thing was that no one appeared to intercede with Seeton. Lou was on top of Mark and was trying to pound the back of his head into the metal grate that made up the platform. McCormick was trying to block it. He was able to get his hands up by his chest and effectively toss Seeton off to the side. Lou was quick to get to his feet and started to run away with McCormick chasing right after him.

In the office, Hardcastle had polished off the goon with a couple of more heavy forearms to his head. He went over and picked up the gun and held it on the goon. He went and grabbed the phone off the desk and dialed up the police to come to their location. As he called, another one of Seeton's henchmen tried to come in the office and Hardcastle quickly pointed the gun in his direction as well and began to put both of them in a secure lockdown position. Then he needed to get out and give McCormick a hand.

Out on the platform Mark lunged for Seeton and took his feet out from under him and they both were sprawled out once again. Seeton took his foot and kicked Mark in the head, dazing him momentarily, but McCormick reached for his foot as he tried to kick him again and he twisted it sharply causing Lou to let out a moan of pain. Mark got to his feet and went to haul Seeton up. They both heard the police sirens off in the distance and paused for just a split second. That was enough for Seeton to smash a right hand into Mark's jaw, sending him reeling. The fist fight was on again.

Mark grabbed for him and pushed him against the railing. "Why don't you give it up Seeton, you can hear the cops coming, you're not getting out of this one."

"Go to hell McCormick," Seeton shouted and tried to push back but he wasn't able too.

"This is a little different than beating up on a woman isn't it?" Mark shouted at him.

"What the hell are you babbling about?" Seeton said. "What woman?"

"I'm talking about Cassie you piece of garbage. What did you ever do to her anyway, throw her away like she was just some trash to take to the dump?" Mark's emotions quickly rose to the surface.

Hardcastle had secured the two goons in the office and he stepped out to see and hear Mark and Seeton down the platform as they had fought their way down the overhang. Mark was holding Seeton against the railing and he was shouting at him.

"I don't know who you're talking about McCormick. You must have me confused with someone else. You know I think the Judge should think about putting you in one of those padded cells. You have some sort of mental problem."

"Shut up!" Mark shouted at him, slamming him against the railing. "Cassie Morrow was Teddy's girlfriend and you killed her. No one ever found her."

Seeton laughed evilly. He was starting to remember. "Oh yeah, Teddy was your cellie. He was nothing but a story teller McCormick, you shouldn't believe anything that comes out of his mouth."

"You're a liar! You killed her and dumped her somewhere. At least have the decency to tell me what you did with her, to put her family and friends at rest."

"Screw you," Seeton said and he finally worked up enough strength to push McCormick off and this time he went after Mark and hit him in the face once again. Then he grabbed Mark and spun him around and pushed him to the railing. "There, how do you like it now? Don't try to tell me you're some sort of avenging angel all of a sudden, you're just like the rest of us."

"You're wrong Seeton, I'm not like you at all." Mark squirmed and tried to break free but it was no use. "Why'd you kill her Seeton?" He shouted at Seeton one more time.

It was that sick laugh once again, "Because I could, just like I can kill you now!" He grabbed McCormick by the lab coat he was wearing and heaved him over the railing onto the hard ground below. McCormick landed with a horrid sounding thud. Milt paused momentarily as he fell, but he quickly turned his attention to Seeton, who was now just about 15 feet away, raised the gun and put a slug into Seeton, dropping him instantaneously to the ground. The cops finally arrived inside the production area and began to surround everything and everyone.

Milt glanced over the platform and saw Mark lying on his back. He appeared to be out cold.

He raced down the nearest stairs and went to McCormick's side and went to grab his arm and he saw Mark's face wince in pain. He was conscious and Milt was slightly relieved.

"Judge?" Mark asked, not bothering to open up his eyes.

"Yeah, it's me kiddo, don't try to move, give yourself a minute" the Judge replied, inwardly he let out a sigh of relief that the kid wasn't dead. He went to give him a hand. "That was quite a fall you just took."

McCormick brushed his hand away, "No, don't touch me, just let me lay here for a minute. I think I got the wind knocked out of me, that's all. Let me just catch my breath." He kept his eyes closed and didn't move a muscle.

"You might have broken something. I think you may have done more than just get your wind knocked out McCormick. I saw you go over, you landed really hard."

"Believe me, I know it Judge." He finally opened his eyes and saw Hardcastle on one knee beside him. McCormick started to rise up to a sitting position and he moaned as he did. "I didn't hear any bones breaking and I think everything is still where it's supposed to be."

"Hey, just slow down, all the bad guys are under lock and key, so there's no need to rush here, make sure you're okay, don't get up too fast, you might have busted something inside there you know," Hardcastle said.

Mark let out a groan as he sat up a little straighter. The Judge put out his hand behind his back, just in case, but McCormick didn't falter. "I didn't break anything, I told you, I just got the wind knocked out of me, used to do that all the time when I was a kid, you know, running from stuff," another groan ensued, "but I'll bet that'll leave a mark, or I'll have a stiff back."

"Did you hit the back of your head or anything?" Hardcastle was quick to give him not just a once over, but a thrice over.

McCormick reached behind his curly hair and announced, "Nah, no bumps forming. I didn't land on my head. I think, believe it or not, I landed mostly on my posterior, where there's at least a little extra flesh." He continued to take a few deep breaths as his eyes fixated on the platform above. "You shot him huh?"

Milt nodded, "Wounded him in the shoulder, he'll be all right in a few days, just in time to send him back off to San Quentin for the rest of his life, rotten piece of garbage that he is. Attempted murder on you, plus I heard the confession on the girl and whatever this all turns out to be," he nodded his head about _Malibioenergy_. He'll be there for the rest of his life this time, I'll make sure of it."

"I like the sound of that," McCormick said, shaking a little bit from the ordeal he'd been through.

"Now you're cookin' kiddo," Milt answered, putting out his hand and helping Mark get to his feet.

OOOOO

Milt stood in the center of five police detectives and a couple of uniformed officers, recreating and explaining what had happened at the Power Plant, at least the part of it that he had witnessed. He had only come in as McCormick was being tossed through the air like a rag-doll. A couple of them anxiously wrote note upon note while the others stood and listened as Hardcastle gestured and pointed to describe all that had occurred.

He started to turn in another direction when he caught McCormick out of the corner of his eye, walking slowly and painfully toward some sort of bench where he could get off of his feet. He had apparently given his version of the day's activities to one of the officers and was now looking to take a well-deserved break. Hardcastle saw McCormick's right arm slowly snake its way to his lower back, trying to ignore the ache that was no doubt beginning to form. He saw him try to rub the pain away. Milt shook his head at the thought of seeing the kid get shoved over the metal railing and falling to the hard ground below. It had to do more than hurt. Plus the fact that the kid had been up for about a week solid now, he was most likely exhausted between working at _Malibioenergy_ and at the Estate. He needed to get him home.

Milt expedited his conversation with the police and begged off to go see about his parolee.

"You ready to go kiddo?" The Judge came up behind him asking, softly setting his hand on Mark's shoulder, not wanting to unduly startle him.

McCormick turned ever so slowly to see him behind him. "Don't I have to fill out a report or answer some more questions for someone?" He grumpily asked, as they'd both already been hanging around for the better part of the last two hours.

"Nope, let's go," Hardcastle said. "Everything else can wait."

"Are you turning me back in?" Mark asked bluntly.

Hardcastle knew he wasn't thinking clearly, "What kind of question is that? Turning you into what?" he fired back, "a pumpkin?"

"Not into,_ in_, as in back to prison? The slammer, you know?"

"Why would I do that?" Hardcastle said. "Back to prison?" he couldn't help but repeat. "What the devil are you talking about? I thought you landed on your back, not on your head? Do I need to get the paramedics back here? You didn't commit any crime by falling you know?"

"Well, yeah I did, I broke into Seeton's office and obtained illegal evidence."

"I don't recall that crime ever being reported," Milt said, looking away.

"Seeton said he had a video." McCormick waited for the Judge to eye him up with a look of doubt and began to slowly get to his feet as he felt Milt put his hand under his left arm and helped ease him up. Just that little bit of assistance sure felt good and was most certainly needed. "You know I did it Judge, I used Sarah's car. I just figured you'd wait till this was all over like it is now and then you'd ship me back. And if there's evidence of me doing it…" his voice dropped off.

"I hate to put a dent in your way of thinking, but I'm not shipping you anywhere, except home to Gulls Way, where you've got about five days of work piling up for yourself. Sarah's not going to be very happy when she finds out what you did with her car, your list is going to quickly multiply on the wrath factor alone."

Mark took a couple of painful steps and had a perplexed look on his face. He wasn't about to just drop the conversation just yet. "So what, you're going to add time to my previous sentence?"

"Your sentence is indefinite remember? There's always consequences kiddo, you really need to learn that," Hardcastle said, walking about a half step behind his somewhat less than 100 sturdy friend, nearly wincing along with him as he took each pain-filled step.

"Great, I'll be cleaning out the gutters for the rest of my life. She's worse than you. At least there's a light at the end of the tunnel on these cases," he paused, "But I don't get you Hardcase, you're telling me it's okay to break the law when it serves _your_ purpose?"

"No, that's not what I'm telling you," his explanation was vague on purpose. "I swear you did land on your head."

Mark stopped walking and turned to face the Judge, "Then I don't get it, I broke in, I picked the lock, I took some papers, I admit it, how is that not illegal?"

Hardcastle put up his finger over his own mouth, "Well, keep it down will ya? There's cops all over here. They don't need to hear you mouth off like this."

"Judge, what is going on?" McCormick turned excruciatingly slowly to face Hardcastle. "I know you too well, I know you've got something cooked up. Just tell me, I'm too tired to argue with you."

"Ha, that'd be a first, I thought you said you're mouth doesn't get revved up till late in the day?" Hardcastle glanced at him for a reaction, but none came. "I actually had a warrant issued after you went to LS that afternoon, Judge Tamers signed off on it about 9pm, and since I'm an officer of the court still, I had a right to go in there to collect evidence."

"But you weren't with me."

"No, but you're in my judicial stay, same sort of thing."

"What?" Mark shook his head in utter disbelief. "You really know how to stretch things out Judge. Would this really stick in a court of law?"

"Aw, there's all kinds of precedents I could find to make it all legal. And there's no Judge in the free world who wouldn't throw something like that out in order to put a piece of farm compost like Seeton away for a long time. We just nailed him for attempted murder in case you haven't realized it." Mark was excruciatingly aware of it with every step he took. He started walking again, with the Judge right behind him. "Good thing I brought the truck, I don't know how you'd climb into that car of yours the way you look right now. You can barely walk a straight line."

"Trust me Judge, the way I look has got nothing on the way I feel. I haven't slept in four days," he eased up his left hand to rub at his temple. "And I have a week's worth of house and garden chores piling up on me. And I need to fess up to Sarah about her car."

"It's been _five _days wise guy, I'm telling you, you got a head injury," he paused and added, "You know you're supposed to be Tonto, not Superman. Taking flight off that balcony was pretty silly. What the hell were you thinking?" Hardcastle said. "We're just supposed to catch these yahoo's, not beat them to a bloody pulp."

"What was I thinking? What the hell were you thinking? Following a truck all by yourself, when you knew they were up to something," McCormick raised his voice. "We could have done it together. But no, you always need to be the Lone Ranger. I'm beginning to think I am just kept around just to fix Sarah's brakes and clean your pool."

"Aw, quit your ranting, Frank knew what I was up to. They had their eyes on this place too. They showed up just in time you know?" Hardcastle explained. "You really didn't have to go after Seeton like you did."

McCormick wasn't satisfied with any of it. "I wanted to get Seeton, that's all I was thinking. You wanted him too. You've been after him for years, you said so yourself," he paused and added, "And I didn't exactly want to fly, I got pushed. I thought you said you saw it? That's what you told the cops. Or is there some other obscure Hardcastle-ism for this that I don't know about?"

"Mmmhmm," was Milt's vague reply.

"What does that mean?"

"I've been wondering why you picked his case over the other two and I got my answer last night," the Judge began.

"Whatta ya mean?"

"Don't give me that, you know exactly what I mean. I have access to all sorts of files and records kiddo. Sometimes it just takes me a while to track down what I need to know."

"Judge, I'm tired and I'm sore, I don't know what you're talking about," a disguised, innocent look came over his face.

"Let me clear it up for you then," they had arrived at the truck and they both got in. "It seems as though Teddy Hollins had a girlfriend a few years back by the name of Cassie Morrow and it turns out she was last seen with Lou Seeton down in Oceanside during that little robbery that he got sent away for. Does that ring a bell now?"

McCormick's face turned from whimsical to serious in a second flat and he didn't respond. There seemed to be nothing that this guy wasn't aware of. What could he say? Hardcastle was a donkey, but he was a cunning donkey.

"Ah ha, no smart answer. You know what? It's okay, I understand, you don't need to make something up. It's good that you care about your friends, but you can't make everything personal. Not only will it catch up to you, it'll tear your heart right out for ever feeling anything. I've seen it happen to too many cops. You need to learn how to keep it in check okay? I'm just tossing out the suggestion here, understand."

McCormick listened thoughtfully as well as showing some irritation that Hardcastle had figured out his 'personal' connection to Seeton. "Yeah, I understand. It's a lot easier said than done though," Mark answered, now thinking more about Hardcastle being manhandled by Seeton and his goons, and not wanting anything to happen to him, than about Teddy and a girl he'd never actually even met. He knew that the prison part of his life was over and it was because of what Hardcastle did for him. He couldn't just let something or someone like Seeton do something to hurt the Judge. It did bother him when his friends were in trouble and if he could do something about it, he would do something about it, just like he had done tonight. He didn't ever imagine that changing.

"Well, work on it will ya?" Hardcastle started driving away and glanced over to see the kid grimace from just sitting. He still was trying to conceal the pain he was in from the Judge. "You want to go get checked out at the hospital, get some sort of pain reliever for you back? Maybe have them check to see if your brain is still okay? That was quite a fall you took? I thought maybe you were dead."

"Nah, I don't need a doctor, I just need a bed, I am so tired, I feel like I've been up for a year." He leaned his head along side the window of the truck and stretched out his arm along the back of the seat, hoping to find some relief. "I'm so glad this one is over."

Hardcastle nodded as he drove along back to Gulls Way. "How'd you know that Seeton was going to be there today anyway?"

"I didn't know for sure, but it was written down in his daily calendar on his desk in his office. That's why I wanted to get on 1st shift today. You keep telling me that organized people keep organized records, I guess Seeton was organized."

That brought a smile to Milt's face. Mark had closed his eyes and yawned as they merged onto the highway. It was a good feeling to know that the kid was listening to the things he told him. "I'm glad you told me so that I could back you up," Hardcastle said.

"You didn't back me up, you got busted following fuel truck." He followed it with a 'ha.' McCormick didn't bother to open his eyes, "Besides, that's the other way around Kemosabe, I'm your back-up remember, this is your gig. Tonto just goes along for the ride. Tonto does all the work, finds out all about the bad guys and their real deal, runs the con and does all the dirty work, including getting shoved off a 15-foot platform, while Kemosabe gets all accolades."

"Maybe I got caught on purpose?" Hardcastle let out.

Mark opened up one of his eyes and peered over to the Judge who happened to glance over at him. "That'd be the day! You keep believing that Hardcase."

They drove along for a few minutes without saying anything, till Milt decided to add, "You did some good work on this one Mark."

The sound of a heavy exhale was the only thing the Judge heard. There was no smart aleck comment or anything coming from McCormick. The Judge looked over and figured he must have fallen asleep.

He drove up to the gatehouse as he entered the Gulls Way road and brought the truck to a stop. The Judge got out of his side and hoped maybe the door closing would jar the kid awake. Nothing doing, he was out cold and here it was the middle of the afternoon. Hardcastle didn't know the last time the kid actually had gotten any real sleep within the last week. He knew he couldn't let him sleep in the truck, not with a potential back ache and well, just 'cause he couldn't do it. He'd have to wake him up. He opened up the driver's side door again and leaned in, reached over and poked the kid in the arm. "McCormick, we're home, come on, wake up. Let's get you inside and in bed."

It took a couple of more pokes to rouse him up. "What? Hmmm? Leave me alone Judge, please?" He tried to brush the Judge's fingers away from poking at him.

Hardcastle poked at him again, "Nothing doing kiddo, come on, wake up just long enough to get you inside."

McCormick opened his eyes and saw the front dash and Hardcastle closing the driver's side door and coming around to his side. "I must have dozed off, we're home already?" he said, opening the door. "You didn't speed us home did ya Judge?" He tried to tease as he let out a heavy yawn as he agonizingly twisted out of the truck. Hardcastle waited patiently for him to get out. He was even stiffer than he had been at the Power Plant, just from the short ride back to Gulls Way. He let out a moan as he straightened up and started in toward the gatehouse. "Sorry about falling asleep on ya Judge," he added.

"No need to apologize, I can see you're beat, maybe I should have brought you to the hospital after all, you don't look too good kiddo."

McCormick shrugged, "I'm fine, I'll be okay from here." His hand went to his back, rubbing at the ever-growing ache again as he walked stiffly. "If it's all right with you, I'm just gonna get some sleep? I'll do the rest of my chores later. Will you let Sarah know?"

"Of course it's alright. Chores can wait, don't even think about it. I'll tell her."

McCormick continued on the tiny path toward the house and noticed that Milt still followed behind him. "Why are you following me Judge? I'm a little bit past the age of being tucked in?"

"Look wise guy, I want to make sure you make it in there safe and sound, you should see how you look," the jurist noted his pasty coloring and sunken eyes. "I don't want you to fall out here on the walk or right inside the door for crying out loud. One digger a day is enough you know?"

McCormick tried to smile, but even that was too exhausting. "Judge, really, I don't need a babysitter," he said.

"Good, because that's one thing I'm not. Just get inside will ya?" They stood both waiting at the door.

Mark opened the door and headed straight for the couch and was just about to drop down onto it, when Hardcastle stuck out his hand and grabbed McCormick's arm and prevented him from sitting down. "Nope, not on that couch kiddo, you'll only end up in more pain than you're already in. The couch is the worst place to be if you have a back ache. Let's get you upstairs to bed."

"Judge, the bed is as hard as a rock, please?" McCormick just wanted to sleep and he was beginning to whine like a 2nd grader.

"Please nothing, a hard surface is just the ticket for what's ailing you, now get going."

Another groan from McCormick ensued. "Judge, I just want to sleep, I don't want to go all the way up stairs."

"Too bad, that's where you're going."

Couldn't the Judge just see he wanted to sleep? It was too taxing to try to argue. He felt like he'd fall asleep on his feet at any moment. He moved toward the stairs and felt the Judge right behind him, his hand on the small of his back the whole way. "Judge, this isn't necessary, I'm not going to fall down the stairs." Each step sent a stabbing ache up and down hid back.

"Right, and I'm just making sure of it," the Judge answered.

Mark finally made it to the top of the landing and collapsed onto the bed in a heap, first in a sitting position and then slowly crumbling down to lay relatively flat.

"Just wanna sleep," McCormick begin to mumble, short little almost incomprehensible statements, but the Judge was able to pick up on most of them. The kid's mind and mouth were still running, even though he seemed to be asleep. "Crazy donkey, leave me alone for ten minutes, just a little peace and quiet, no basketball, too many chores, gutters busting bad guys, pool cleaning, oil change, thrown over a railing, picking weeds in flower beds, all that food, gotta cut the grass, what's your pulse Hardcase, beats a jail cell, more John Wayne, just lemme sleep, gotta sleep," was the last thing he murmured.

"I'll let you sleep." Milt nearly busted out laughing as he watched him closely and was about to suggest that he lose his shoes, when he saw Mark kick them off onto the floor. He was now sound asleep as he did it, the jabbering had stopped. There was no doubt about that in Milt's mind as he watched the kid's face totally soften and a peaceful snore began to be heard. The Judge plucked off the blanket that was kicked off to the side of the bed and quickly spread it over him. McCormick grabbed at it, unaware how it had gotten on him and rolled a little onto his side, snuggling up for as perfect rest as he could find.

"Good night kiddo," Milt added, 'you sure earned it on this one." He could have sworn he heard another smart aleck remark, but it just came out as garbled gibberish.

Hardcastle quietly exited down the stairs, and was about to head back out to the main house, when Sarah entered carrying a tray heaping with all kinds of food.

"I figured that boy would be hungry by now. He hasn't been eating too well the last few days, shoveling everything in way too fast just to keep up with everything," she began, brushing past Milt. "We can't have him getting sick on us your honor, his work is stacking up around here. I thought he could use a good meal before he got back to his chores."

"You're right Sarah, but he's not going to eat anything until probably tomorrow at the earliest," the Judge tried to explain. "And no chores either."

"What are you talking about?" She asked. "Your honor, honestly, he's here to work and by goodness there's plenty of things for him to do."

Hardcastle knew he had to give her some sort of explanation "Sarah, he's out cold up there, exhaustion most likely, I had to argue with him just to get him to go to bed, instead of dropping off down here on the couch," the Judge said.

"Oh heavens," Sarah said, setting the tray down on the nearby table. "What happened to him? Should he be in the hospital?"

"Nah, he'll be fine, after he gets some rest. We just wrapped up the case that's all, and he took a pretty hard fall," Hardcastle said.

"Well, what about all this dinner?"

"I'm sure whatever you made will keep," Milt smiled, "'cause he's bound to be hungry once he does wake up." He lifted up the tray to carry it back to the house. "Come on, let's go, just let him get some sleep. I'll help you wrap all this food up."

"How long do you think he'll sleep?" Sarah asked, following him out of the gatehouse.

He kept walking in front of her and let a smile pass over his face that was an easy one to answer, "Indefinitely Sarah, indefinitely."


End file.
